Chapter Five #2
It was one thing for a gentleman to drag another’s name through the mud in hopes of currying favor; it was quite another to fling oneself face-first into the muck simply for the sake of good gossip.
He knew he could easily convince Mr. Huxley and his companion to look the other way, but the crowd beginning to congregate on the terrace was a completely different story.
Someone had been discovered in the garden tonight.
Someone’s reputation would be tarnished.
He knew his name could survive the scandal, but the young woman who stood beside him—the one he had been holding just moments ago as she trembled in his arms, and whose bright red hair shone like a beacon in the moonlight—would be ruined.
If word started to spread, and if he were mentioned, Charlotte’s name could be affected as well, and he could do nothing to protect her.
This was the only choice.
“We met some time ago,” Nathaniel began his explanation.
Years of addressing Parliament with a confidence that he only felt on the surface proved useful.
From the outside, he could portray what everyone expected when they heard his title, while on the inside, he had no earthly idea what he was going to say next.
“Circumstances prevented me from learning her name, but I have not been able to stop thinking of her since.” He kept his words dangerously close to the truth.
He hadn’t been able to rid his mind of the young woman he had pulled from the Thames.
The color of her eyes, the feel of her in his arms…
but no one needed to know the specifics of how they met, or that he hadn’t followed her into the gardens tonight to propose.
Everything that had happened before he stepped off that terrace mattered little now.
“I admit that when I saw her tonight, I acted hastily, but not dishonorably.”
Still the truth.
He hadn’t even considered the fact that someone could be wearing a dress so similar to his sister before he chased the young woman out into the dark.
Mr. Huxley scoffed, his eyes falling once again on the young lady in question.
Nathaniel had to admit, it looked grim. The poor girl was disheveled from her time in the rain, running from him through the garden, and being pushed into a bush.
Her eyes, cheeks and lips were red from the cold, but standing there in his jacket, no one would assume the flush was from the wind.
He took a deep breath, and when he did, he was flooded with the fresh scent of roses that had transferred from her hair onto his cravat.
How had he found himself in the exact situation he had warned his sister of? If there wasn’t so much at stake, it would have almost been comical.
Nathaniel cleared his throat, taking a step towards Mr. Huxley. “Nothing untoward occurred.”
He didn’t have to raise his voice; he simply allowed the weight of his title to speak before he continued. “That is more than I can say for what I observed between the two of you.”
Huxley swallowed, his face turning pale.
“My only intention was to find a private place where I could declare myself…” The first true lie settled heavily in Nathaniel’s chest. “…until we were startled.”
The unspoken accusation hung in the air, and the young girl who was with Huxley had gone completely silent.
At some point between her smart remarks and Nathaniel’s declaration, she must have realized the position she found herself in.
He hated using her own reputation as a bargaining chip, but the girl he had been with was completely innocent in all of this.
Wasn’t she?
Now that he thought about it, Nathaniel had absolutely no idea why she was in the gardens alone; if she had even been alone.
His stomach turned sour at the thought. Regardless of what her intentions had been, there was no going back now. Their fate had been sealed the moment Nathaniel exposed them.
The moment he had heard Huxley’s name and the girlish laugh that accompanied it, his instinct had taken over. The wave of relief he felt the moment he realized it wasn’t Charlotte was soon replaced with the pit of dread over what he had done.
He didn’t dare look back at the woman behind him. If he saw the terror in her eyes, or the trembling of her hands, it was sure to undo the calm composure he currently had perfectly under control.
A duke never showed weakness; not when the weight of another’s future rested so heavily on his shoulders. The circumstances that had led them all here mattered little in this moment—whoever this woman was, she was his responsibility now.
“I am planning to speak with her father at once, and I would prefer to proceed with things properly, without unnecessary spectacle.” Nathaniel held his breath. The sound of his heart beating against his chest was magnified in the silence.
Huxley’s hesitation was putting them all in an even more precarious situation.
The longer they stood there, the more they risked someone else venturing from the terrace and discovering them.
The end result would be the same—he would still marry the girl, but it would be a much harder image to salvage.
Huxley finally nodded slowly—he knew he didn’t have a choice.
“Of course, Your Grace,” he murmured through clenched teeth. “We will not breathe a word. We know how much you value discretion.” The final word was punctuated with his true meaning…silence for silence.
Nathaniel nodded in agreement as the other couple turned to take their leave, carefully maneuvering through the garden paths to try and remain unseen as they snuck back into the crowded drawing room.
Nathaniel took a breath, allowing himself a moment to relax before turning to face the young woman he had just promised himself to. Her face was even paler than it had been before, her eyes wide as they stared at him.
“Well,” he tried to force a smile to calm her. “That could have been worse.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but the sobs that wracked her body were completely silent. Her hands trembled as she held them against her chest. “I cannot breathe,” she whispered as she lowered herself to kneel in the mud.
Nathaniel dropped to her side, taking one of her gloved hands in his and placing the other under her chin, forcing her to hold his gaze.
“You are alright,” he whispered. “Try to breathe more slowly.” He exaggerated his own inhales and exhales for her to follow. Slowly she began to relax, her breathing falling into perfect rhythm with his. The noise from the terrace grew louder, and he knew he had to get her away from the crowd.
“Come with me.” He rose from the ground, never letting go of her hand, and led her further away from the glow of the ballroom. He searched until he found another door. They slipped inside the dark hallway, walking away from the muffled voices and music until he found the room he was looking for.
A small fire burned in the hearth of an empty library, and he drew the young woman to the chair nearest it before releasing her hand and making his way back to close the door.
“You are the Duke of Kenswick,” she whispered.
It sounded as though she was talking more to herself than to him, but the fact that she was speaking normally was a good sign.
If Nathaniel could keep her talking, perhaps it would keep her from slipping back into whatever state of panic had overtaken her outside.
“I am.” He lowered himself into the chair across from hers. “It seems you now have me at a disadvantage, for I still do not know your name. Miss…”
“Talbot,” she answered quickly. “Lady Emilia Talbot.”
He didn’t recognize her name, which wasn’t unusual as he socialized as little as possible when in London.
It was obvious she had not known who he was until Huxley had addressed him, but the fact that she had accentuated her own title made him smile.
Obtaining a special license to wed a titled Lady would be much easier.
He was to marry this woman. His stomach twisted at the thought, though it wasn’t as unpleasant a feeling as he would have expected.
“It is a pleasure to formally meet you, Emilia,” Nathaniel said once he found his voice again. “May I call you Emilia? I feel as though we have already moved past the need for formalities.”
Her eyes closed briefly and she shook her head. “Why would you say that?”
“After what transpired at the river, and now the garden…”
“No,” she interrupted. “Why did you tell them you were going to marry me?”
Nathaniel took a breath, finally allowing the full weight of what had transpired in the garden to settle.
He still did not know why he had said it.
The words had tumbled out before he had the presence of mind to stop them, but the moment they escaped, he couldn’t take them back—and the moment he had seen her fall to the ground in panic, he hadn’t wanted to.
He stared at her now, and though she had stopped shaking, he could see that her nerves were teetering dangerously on the edge. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the arms of the chair, her fingers peeking out from under the sleeves of his jacket.
Her eyes were red from crying and the stinging wind they had endured outside.
A few stray tears still clung to her lashes, her bottom lip trembled, and he could see her nibbling on the inside of her cheek as she waited for his answer.
Her shoulders were rigid, and her jaw held high as she kept her eyes locked firmly on his.
She had cracked in front of him once, but he wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking she would allow herself to do it again. Something inside him almost wished she would—not because he wanted to see her cry, but because he had an overwhelming desire to be the one who held her when she did.
He still hadn’t answered her question, and her brows raised expectantly, but he only had one explanation to offer…
“Because I am going to marry you.”